


Movement

by wigglebox



Series: Supernatural - Season 15 Coda Fics [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Gen, Internal Conflict, M/M, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: It's a familiar situation, a painful one, but Dean knows his place and knows his role, and knows better than to hope for anything different.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Supernatural - Season 15 Coda Fics [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514216
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Movement

Sometimes it felt like Dean stood on the outside of his conversations, eavesdropping on the discussion instead of actively participating in it. 

It didn’t happen often in his life and he didn’t know when it would happen or how to stop it. The most frustrating thing for Dean came to when he had to respond to the person speaking to him. Since he felt so far removed, words wouldn’t come. Or, if they did, they weren’t the right ones and just reactionary single-syllable dribbles. 

Dean already felt the detaching begin when he saw Cas trying to leave, again, without telling them where or why he was, again. There was a brief flare of annoyance and frustration, but he swallowed it when he realized Cas would tell him what’s going on instead of dodging the answer. Though, Dean reminded himself, had he not needed a drink to help him actually sleep that night, he wouldn’t have gotten any explanation. 

In a way, Dean blamed himself. He didn’t acknowledge it fully until Cas hit him over the head with the truth, but Dean had a strange sense of hope deep down inside him. That small balloon of hope gave him little flashes of life post-whatever the hell it was they were doing. Everyone lived, everyone’s doing alright, there’s not much to worry about anymore. 

And that hope gave him the opportunity to entertain a future he’d been imagining for years. The only thing holding him back with that specific future came down to the fact that Dean didn’t want it spoken out loud. The only way that future would manifest itself was if he voiced his intentions, and Dean constantly admonished himself for being selfish, because it was being selfish, thus keeping himself silent. 

As he stood before Cas that night, that intention started to scream at him as he felt himself pull away from the conversation. Cas’s own words from only several weeks ago bounced around in Dean’s head, giving him orders. Do something to make him stay, say something to make him stay, do something to make them stay, say something--

But he didn’t do it. As he pulled himself away from the conversation, the words died in his throat and were overtaken by another truth:

You can’t do anything. It’s not gonna matter. Nothing you say is gonna matter. 

There was a sad and tired determination in Cas’s eyes and Dean knew that when it came to the hierarchy, he ranked low on the list when it came to defeating a cosmic being and cutting the puppet strings. He always ranked low on the list. Cas cared about them but there was always a higher cause to focus on, and Dean couldn’t blame him. He understood that drive. It was a motivation that was hard to stop even if they wanted to, and most times, they wanted to. 

As Dean stood in front of Cas physically, but off in the shadows mentally, he felt that all-too-familiar sense of dread, like someone dropped him from a plane or tripped him over a cliff. As he faced the long descent down into familiar waters, there was nothing Dean could do other than watch everything else go rushing by, untouchable and forgettable. 

Cas asked Dean if he understood. Dean nodded automatically. 

Cas paused, looking like he wanted to say something else, but Dean didn’t prompt him. 

Cas turned around and walked back toward the stairs, a familiar scene that Dean didn’t stop.

Dean watched his catatonic self from the shadowy edge of the room, wanting to run over and force out of him all the words and desired actions that pile up every time these scenarios happen, but someone shoved his feet into cement and stitched his mouth closed. 

He knew better than to stay quiet and remain still, but he also knew it didn’t matter. It was better to stand there and take the pain already present, out in the open, rather than allow himself to float above it with the small balloon of hope he had, only to get shot down over the icy water once more. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a short little coda for this week! I enjoyed 15x16 but wanted to focus on a little bit of the character thought process aspect of it. This fic touches on the conversation that ended 15x15 and that we didn't really get to see a full discussion of. 
> 
> I had thought about developing that conversation, and maybe one day I'll think it up, but I wanted to focus more on the kind of mental state that put Dean in for the rest of 15x16, especially after he said that he was always afraid. 
> 
> This fic wasn't beta read so if you see any mistakes kindly let me know!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!  
> <3 Jen


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